


The Gang Performs Grease

by gummybear3498



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, teen and up is just cause they all have the mouths of sailors, the kids from vault 101 do grease! what more can i say?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gummybear3498/pseuds/gummybear3498
Summary: Sole's dream role has always been Sandy.When her drama teacher announces that the Fall musical is going to be Grease she knows that she has to make her dream come true.Her dream never involved Butch DeLoria to be her Danny.His dream never involved being in Grease in the first place.





	1. Chapter 1

The conflict between Butch and Sole had started the in the gap between elementary and middle school. Butch got along with most of the kids in those years. But something happened during that summer and none of the kids could figure it out. Butch DeLoria and his “gang” had become a prime example of every fictional school yard bully. They walked through the school like they owned it.

  
Half of the student population; the younger ones were scared of The Tunnel Snakes.

 

The other half; the ones who had grown up with them, just saw them as a nuisance that they only had to put up with for a few more years. Year after year, Soledad Mendoza and Amata Almodovar got it the worse and they were never sure why. Was he angry that they dared approach him in middle school to invite him to hang out with them at gym? Maybe he was angry that Amata’s dad, Dean Almodovar kept sticking him and his groupies in detention every time they messed with the students. Whenever they want to place the origin of this rivalry, it had lasted a long time and Sole and Amata had sucked it up keeping their chins held high at every taunt that came their way. It was nothing they couldn’t handle. Honestly the two of them felt that Butch and The Tunnel Snakes could use some constructive criticism on their insults because they hadn’t progressed past playground taunts and mocking their intelligence or the fact that they were “daddy’s girls.” Not that it’s hard to be one when you have a dead mother. A few times when she was younger, Sole would shoot back with an insult of “momma’s boy” and Butch left her alone for three full days. She guessed she found a sore spot for him.

 

Butch and Sole seemed destined to hate each other. For a while Sole kept her mouth shut, not wanting to escalate the situation. Eventually she decided that enough was enough and began to go toe to toe against Butch. Every insult he hurled at her was met with an equally biting one back from Sole. He'd never admit it but he was happy when someone starting biting back.

 

In the spring of their Junior year, the theater teacher announced the fall musical. For drama kids like Sole and Amata, this was the highlight of the year. Ms. Armstrong announced that they were putting on a production of Grease. Auditions would be in September and the show would open in November. Amata was to be the director. Amata and Sole spent the entire day in a haze of joy. The two of them were practically inseparable and doing a show together was always their favorite activity. Amata, not resorting to nepotism, didn’t promise the role to Sole. Sole understood this and spent the weeks leading up to it practicing her audition. Her dream role was Sandy, but she would honestly just be happy to be cast in the show as any role. There was a list of twenty-four girls to audition for the role of Sandy. Amata was sure of one thing; whether as a Pink Lady or as the ensemble, she wanted everyone to be in the show if they wanted to. After sitting in the auditorium with Ms. Armstrong for a few hours they narrowed the list down to three potential candidates for Sandy. There was a smaller list for the students auditioning for Danny. They never could seem to get more than the regular group of boys in their show.

 

Butch was standing in the wings, nervous. He kicked at little patches of sand on the ground as he listened to each of the students before him go up on stage and introduce themselves. He didn’t even want this part; he didn’t want to be here in the first place. His nervousness turned to anger for a second and he promised when he got out he was going to murder Wally Mack. He was here on a dare, and a stupid one at that. Wally and Paul had bet him that he couldn’t steal a bottle of his mom’s booze. He knew that this challenge wasn’t to test his own stealth but just to see if the two of them would have easy access to alcohol through Butch. He tried anyways. The punishment for failure was for him to audition for the school musical. He brushed it off, because of course he didn’t care about this stupid musical. Now that he was standing there about to sing in front of people, he felt nervousness bubble in the pit of his stomach; a feeling he was not unaccustomed to. He saw Freddie Gomez walk off stage and took in a deep breath as Amata called out “NEXT!”

 

Amata saw who walked out on stage and was shocked. She quickly attempted to hide the look of shock on her face; as a director she had to remain impartial. She felt like something was off about Butch- what was it? Nervousness? Anger? Embarrassment? Hell, maybe it was all of the above. He stood on the stage, his arms awkwardly by his sides. “I’m Butch. Uh, Butch DeLoria. I’m auditioning for the part of Danny…” he trailed off and Amata smiled gently. Though they had a rough history she’d never mock someone for putting themselves out for the world. It's not who she was “Whenever you’re ready Butch.” He nodded and inhaled sharply through his nose before releasing shakily through his mouth.

 _Stranded at the drive-in_  
_Branded a fool_  
_What will they say_  
_Monday at school?_

He had his eyes closed as he began to sing, which was tragic as he would’ve loved to see the look of shock that appeared on Amata’s face after the first note rang through the auditorium. Ms. Armstrong was surprised as well. While none of the Danny auditioners were bad, Butch sounded better than all of them. He was able to project his voice while still retaining control. She was angry that she had never gotten him in one of her shows before; though how that happened was no place of confusion for her.

 

The Tunnel Snakes wouldn’t be caught dead in a school musical. Until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So this is my high school grease au fantasy brain child that I first thought of maybe like a year or so ago. Now I'm in a writing group and we have to write a lot of fucking words by the end of the month  
> SO  
> What better to do than write Fallout 3 fanfiction with my best girl Sole?  
> There's a lot already written but it needs to be edited and reread because I've been writing daily in 3 hour bursts and it's not all good.  
> Hope someone likes it :)


	2. Chapter 2

Sole had been standing at the back of the auditorium waiting for Amata, anticipating their usual walk home together. She had been bouncing back and forth between taking notes on her peers’ auditions and scrolling through her phone. Of those that had auditioned already she thought that Freddie sounded the best. And if she were lucky enough to get cast as Sandy he was the one that she would have minded costarring with the least.

  
She had propped herself against the door frame with a leg bent behind her, scrolling aimlessly through her Twitter feed. That’s when she recognized Butch’s voice as he began to speak. Immediately she switched her phone screen off and gave her full attention to the stage. She couldn’t help but find her gaze drawn to him. She was baffled honestly, not knowing why Butch was on stage auditioning for Danny right now; it was last place she had expected him to be. But when he started to sing that question didn’t matter anymore, because holy shit. He actually sounded good. No scratch that. He sounded great. And that made her angry. Angry in the way you get when shitty people have good things happen to them. That anger dissipated slightly as he finished his song and stuttered out a quick “thankyou!” before literally running off the stage. From where she stood in the back, she could see Amata turn around in her chair and give her a look that conveyed one question.

What the fuck just happened?

* * *

The callback list went up two days later. Butch was on the it alongside Freddie. The Tunnel Snakes clapped him on the back in earnest.

  
“Didn’t know you had it in you DeLoria!”  
“Yeah! Who knew you’d be the star of the show?”

  
Butch could only stare at the list with his mouth open, jaw slack. He ripped it off the wall and crumbled it up then shot it towards a nearby garbage can; only to miss. “Whatever. I ain’t going to the fucking callback dumbasses.”

  
He marched off leaving Wally and Paul to stare after him in shock before running to catch up. Wally fell into step with Butch. “Dude you gotta! I know it was a joke at first but this is awesome!”

  
Butch shook his head. “I’m a Tunnel Snake. Tunnel Snakes don’t do musicals.”

  
Paul spoke up next. “We’re all Tunnel Snakes Butch. And we do whatever we want! Nobody tells us what to do! Don’t be confined to what society wants you to be. Break the mold!”

  
Butch and Wally both stopped to look at Paul with a questioning look. “I’ve been seeing this college girl okay? She’s got a lot to say about shit like that!” The three of them exchanged looks, none of them really knowing what to say after that. Then Butch and Wally shrugged and the three of them kept walking.

  
“We’re not gonna make you do anything that you don’t wanna do Butch but don’t skip out ‘cause you’re worried ‘bout what other people are gonna think.”

  
They broke into separate paths after that, each going to their classes. But Butch stopped before he reached his, deep in thought. He turned around and walked quickly towards the discarded callback sheet. He picked it up off the floor and un-crinkled it, smoothing it out. He took his phone out and took a picture of the paper before pinning it back to the board where he originally ripped it from.

  
Fuck what other people are going to think. Tunnel Snakes rule.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was gone for like 3 months :/  
> But I'm back!  
> So there's that I guess?  
> I didn't actually think people would like this???  
> Love you all!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Sole was on the callback list for Sandy along with Susie Mack and Christine Kendall. Making a callback list was a big deal for Sole. When the second round of auditions began, Sole had been so absorbed with her own callbacks that when she saw Butch sitting with Freddie in the lobby of the auditorium, she was taken slightly aback. She shook off her shock and went to go sit with the other girls. One by one they were called onto the stage, and Amata and Ms. Armstrong carefully took in each of their monologues and songs. At the end of the day, the two of them announced to the five students that they would be making their decisions that week and that the cast list would be posted by Friday at the latest. Sole grabbed her bag and she and Amata headed towards her house to get some homework done.

 

Once they had crossed the threshold into the Almodovar household, Amata ran up the stairs beckoning Sole to follow. Once they were both inside Amata’s room she shut the door and looked around suspiciously. Sole could feel nervous energy begin to fester in her stomach. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 

“Okay so,” Amata took a breath in an attempt to quell her excitement. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, so you’re not allowed to tell anyone—okay?” Sole nodded and swore up and down that she wouldn’t say anything. “We already made our decision; we just had to make it look like we didn’t make it during the auditions. YOU GOT IT! YOU’RE OUR SANDY!”

 

Silence followed this announcement. Then in a split second Sole screamed and jumped up and down excitedly, grabbing onto Amata’s arms and forcing her to jump as well. After the eruption of noise had passed she pulled Amata into a tight hug, her thanks being muffled by Amata’s hair. “Thank you so much. I know I said I just wanted to be in the show but now I’m really fucking happy that I’m Sandy!”

 

Amata smiled and pulled back from the hug. “I’m glad you’re happy now because this next announcement isn’t going to thrill you.” Sole squinted at Amata curiously before the puzzle began to click together in her mind. Green eyes went wide in horror as she took a step back from her friend. “Amata, no. Don’t say what I know you’re about to say. Please don’t say it.”

 

“We want to cast Butch as Danny.”

 

“Nope. Sorry, no fucking way. Amata, I- you know I can’t do this.” The refusal came out muffled as Sole had thrown herself onto Amata’s bed immediately after the revelation of who her intended co-star was going to be and had buried her face in the pillows. Amata frowned and poked at Sole’s side.

 

“Come on, Sole. If you’re going to ruin my first show, at least look at me while you’re doing it.”

 

The sheets shifted slightly as Sole slowly rolled slowly onto her side to face her friend. “You know why I can’t. Of all people, you should understand!”

 

Amata nodded. “No, trust me—I know. He’s no ray of sunshine in my life either. But he was the best singer! You saw that! Can you deny that?”

 

Sole opened her mouth to speak but stopped mid breath and shut it again, this time with a frustrated look on her face.

 

“See! You can’t!”

 

Sole pushed herself off the bed and began pacing around Amata’s room. “Okay well, just because I can’t actually complain about his acting or singing doesn’t mean I want to act alongside him. So, I guess just-” she sighed as she made eye contact with Amata “just cast another Sandy?”

 

At that moment it was Amata’s turn to spring from the bed. “Soledad Mendoza! Have you been replaced with a fucking alien? I can’t believe you would suggest something like that! When they announced that we were gonna be doing Grease in the fall all you could talk about was how much you wanted to be Sandy! Plus, you pretty much are her. This is your part.” Sole was touched by this sentiment but couldn’t get past who her acting partner would be.

 

“Amata, I hate him. He hates me. I don’t even know why he auditioned for this show! He and his lackeys do nothing but mock us for being in drama. I bet it was some stupid dare to ruin our show.” Amata pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to figure out how to convince Sole to take this chance.

 

“I get it, Sole. But he came to auditions; he came to callback. Think about it, have you ever known Butch DeLoria to do something he didn’t want to do? That jackass is stubborn. If he didn’t want to be in the show he wouldn’t have been on stage today singing for me and Ms. Armstrong. He wouldn’t have come.” Sole rolled onto her back and let out a deep sigh that seemed to emanate from her whole body.

 

“I’ll try to make it work Amata. For you, for the show. I’m not gonna like it, but I’ll do it.”  
Amata squealed and jumped onto the bed next to Sole pulling her into a combination of a cuddle and a hug. Sole blushed and leaned in hugging her back as well as she could from her position on the bed. “Thank you so much, Sole. This is all going to work out fine. It’s gonna be perfect; I promise.”

 

Sole wasn’t so sure about it.

 

“This is gonna be the biggest acting job of my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is here!  
> :D


	4. Chapter 4

The cast list was put up Wednesday afternoon. Sole made a show of walking up and checking it before class; acting surprised as to not reveal that she had already known about the casting choices that had been made.

 

As she and Amata walked off to class arm in arm Butch, Wally, and Paul walked up to the list.

 

“DeLoria did it again! You know… we shouldda auditioned then we could hang out.” Wally lamented.

 

 Paul agreed “Yeah! Then we could’ve been in two gangs!”

 

Wally and Paul had a brief moment of eye contact before they realized they were on the same page and began to take off down the hallway. “We’re gonna go see Ms. Armstrong and see if it’s not too late! Congrats Butch! Wish us luck!”

 

Butch laughed and watched his friends run off. He found their excitement endearing and wondered how much being a Tunnel Snake had held them back from doing what they want to do. He looked back to the list and found a headache coming on as he saw the choice for Sandy.

 

Nosebleed.

 

He stuck his hands in his jacket pocket and walked off towards class, wondering if the two of them were gonna kill each other before the show even had the chance to open.

 

* * *

 

At the end of the day the cast found themselves in a meeting with Ms. Armstrong.

 

“Alright everyone, rehearsals begin in two weeks. but until then I recommend that you start running lines, okay?” Ms. Armstrong stood over the crowd of drama kids like a monarch looking over her citizens.

 

Her words were not advice. They were law.

 

Sole was sitting in the front row next to Amata eased into relaxation by the presence of her best friend and her crush. But there was something nagging at the corner of her mind. Maybe it was the thought of her having to go out of her way and spend time with Butch, because that was something she really would rather not do. She turned around slightly to look a few rows back and spotted the demon himself, sat next to Wally, Paul, and Freddie. Danny and his T-Birds. Who would have thought.

 

In all honesty she had always pictured Freddie there. He would often work as a stage hand at the shows throughout the semester, but he never had the guts to actually audition until now. He was a nice boy who desperately wanted, for some reason, to be in the Tunnel Snakes. Sole often wondered what would happen if he did, would he change? Become a dick just like Paul had? She was worried she was going to find out.

 

Butch himself was zoning out, he knew he should be paying attention but really couldn't muster up the will to do so. He looked over to his friends and saw them all nodding intently at Ms. Armstrong, attempting to make it clear that she wouldn't regret giving them a last-minute audition and casting them as two of the T-Birds. He felt eyes on him and turned his attention to the front of the row of seats and saw Sole eyeing him warily.

 

He had chosen to ignore the fact that he was going to have to act with her and sing with her and pretend to fall in love with her. Because that would be gross, and Butch DeLoria would never fall in love with a nosebleed like her. Though had to admit that she would be lucky to have a boyfriend as cool as him. He gave her a little wave and winked. A look of disgust came across her face and she turned back around. Butch smirked and propped his hands behind his neck and leaned back. Works like a charm.

 

Ms. Armstrong continued to droll on at the stage. "Butch, Sole."

 

The two looked up at her.

 

“Ah, my shining stars. My Danny and Sandy. I need you two to get work on getting to know each other more okay? We need chemistry on this stage next month!” The two stars in question both immediately began to complain but she cut them off. “Ah, ah, ah. Listen I'm not saying you have to fall in love with each other to make this show work alright? But I expect you two to at least interact with each other without throwing a fit. Am I understood?” She received a reluctant nod.

 

“Good. glad we're all on the same page! Amata will be working really close with you all to set up times to run lines with your co-stars before the official rehearsals start. I'm very excited to see what you all can do!” She clapped her hands together in excitement and scurried off the stage.

 

Sole turned to Amata and buried her head in the others shoulder. “What am I gonna do Amata? How does she expect me to spend time with that jerk?” Amata looked at her curiously and Sole amended her sentence. “I mean like, outside of the professional aspect of being co-stars. Acting is one thing, but this is real life.” Amata patted her on the shoulder gently. She really didn't know what to say. and if she was going to be honest she didn't know how well this would work out.

 

Any of it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this has been lying dormant for a while. I had a busy time of moving my stuff out of my dorm and back home and then getting back to work and now I'm sick and dying so I figured while I'm stuck in bed is as good of a time as any to start working on this again.   
> Lots of rambling  
> TLDR: I got distracted by life.


	5. Chapter 5

Butch wasn't taking it easily either.

 

The three Tunnel Snakes and Freddie exited the auditorium and went to stand by Butch's car to talk. Butch pulled a cigarette out of its carton and lit it quickly, taking a drag and releasing it in an aggravated puff of air.

 

"It's one thing that I have to pretend to fall in love with Nosebleed, but now I actually have to hang out with her? What are we gonna do? Her idea of fun is probably studying, or color-coding her notes, something lame like her, you know?"

 

Paul kicked at the loose pieces of asphalt in the parking lot. "It might not be that bad Butch... I mean, why do we hate her so much? I don't think she's ever actually done anything to us? Nothing that was unwarranted. She punched Wally once—" at this Wally flushed a deep shade of red "—but you kinda deserved it, you took shit a step too far, dude."

 

Paul looked back up to Butch. "Just give it a shot and try not to be a dick about it, okay? Sole's a good person." With that final thought, Paul walked off to his own car, leaving the rest of the group in silence.

 

"Yeah, well, what does Paul know?" Wally yelled. "Fuck him!”

 

Butch punched Wally in the shoulder, not quite soft but only hard enough to startle him into silence. "Shut the fuck up, Wally." Wally frowned and rubbed at his shoulder as Butch raised his cigarette to his mouth once more.

 

Suddenly and almost out of nowhere, a well-manicured hand plucked the cigarette from his hands. Butch looked up, about to yell at the asshole who stole his cig. He closed his mouth when he saw it was Ms. Armstrong.

 

"These," she said tossing the cigarette on the ground, "are cancer sticks. They will ruin your lungs and your life. But I don't need to tell you that, do I, Mr. DeLoria? You’re a smart boy, right?"

 

Butch didn’t say anything, simply looking down at the ground in something that was shockingly close to shame.

 

"Listen,” she continued. “I care about my students, but I know you’re an adult and you will do what you want. But let me make myself clear, Mr. DeLoria: I will not see another cigarette until this show is over, okay? I can't have my star coating his vocal cords with tar."

 

Ms. Armstrong pressed her boot into the ground and crushed the smoking cigarette flat into the pavement. "Have a nice day, Butch."

 

She bustled off to the faculty parking lot and got into a truck that really didn't match her personality.

 

"Wow, who the fuck does she think she is?" Wally muttered.

 

"Seriously Wally? Shut the fuck up." Butch ran his hands through his hair, careful not to mess it up, and muttered something about seeing them tomorrow as he threw his backpack into his car and drove off.

* * *

 

When he got home that day, he pushed the front door openand wondered why it was unlocked. He knew the answer when he saw his mother sprawled out on the couch. She was still fully dressed, her heels still on her feet and resting on the arm of the couch. She had obviously gotten home sometime when he was at school and just immediately crashed. He sighed deeply, wishing that Ms. Armstrong hadn't thrown out his last cigarette—he felt like he could really use one right now.

 

He gently nudged his moms shoulder. Nothing. He sat on the edge of the couch, shaking her arm.

 

"Hey, ma. Come on—wake up, ma."

 

Again, nothing.

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook out his shoulders before standing up. He slid his arms under his mom’s body and scooped her up, carrying her to her own bed. He took off her earrings, her shoes, her sunglasses—still on top of her head—and tucked her in, leaving a bottle of water and some aspirin on her bedside table.

 

When he returned to the couch, he plopped himself down, filling the space his mother had just vacated. He wasn't really sure what he was going to do—meaning at this moment in time, about the show, Sole, or his mom.

 

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and pulled up Facebook. Into the search bar he typed 'Soledad Mendoza’ and waited for her profile to load. They were friends on Facebook in the way that people just add everyone from high school, giving no thought to who they're asking or who accepts. Her profile picture was a picture of her and her dad a few years ago, when the school had made them put on a career fair. In the picture, Sole and her father were standing in front of her booth, both wearing stethoscopes with goofy expressions on their faces.

 

He scrolled down to her posts. There was a lot about the recent election, a lot of puppy videos, a lot of memes. This made him laugh—political posts and animal videos were exactly what he was expecting from her profile, but the memes seemed odd and out of place.

 

He clicked on her about page.

 

She was female (yeah, no duh), she was born on May 16th (he knew this from how many of her birthday parties he went to in elementary school, even up to middle school), she was a Taurus (who cares), she was single, (he laughed) she was bi (news to him.)

 

Her interests revealed even more information to Butch. She liked 50's diners and hiking; she loved drive-ins and sci-fi and horror movies; she liked swimming in any body of water; she loved the beach but hated the sand; she liked rock music, new and old, and said that if she could live in any decade it would be a revamped version of the 50's where people weren't racist and sexist and homophobic. Butch sighed and clicked out of Facebook. There was a lot of information there; it was almost as if she was filling out a dating profile.

 

He began to think that spending time with her wasn't going to be as bad as he thought—not that he would enjoy it at all! Just that it wouldn't be complete torture.

 

He stood up from the couch and made his way back to his room. He took off his jacket and the jeans he wore too tightly and changed into a pair of sweatpants, grabbing his laptop before shuffling into the small kitchen. He pulled a bag of popcorn from the cabinet and shoved it into the microwave before setting his laptop up on the table next to the couch and opening up Netflix. He found what he was looking for after typing in the first two letters.

 

He fiddled around a bit, checking his phone and email while waiting for the microwave buzzer to go off. When it did, he didn't even bother dumping the popcorn into a bowl; he just carried the bag back to the couch and hit play.

 

The voice of Frankie Valli lured him into a calm state as he mindlessly munched on his snack. It had been a while since he had actually watched Grease—at least 3 or 4 years—and he felt that it would be beneficial to get the plot again before he was thrown headfirst into this show. In the middle of the moviem as Frankie Avalon was serenading Frenchie about dropping out of school, he pulled out his phone and began drafting a Facebook message to Sole. He was gonna reach out—extend an olive branch, as it were.

 

_hey nosebleed-_

He heard Paul's voice as if it were a little angel on his shoulder: 'Try not to be a dick about it, okay?' Butch sighed and started over

 

_hey Soledad. it’s Butch. i know we don’t get along but i’m really not here to mess up the show. Amata already threatened me about fucking this up for her so don’t worry. believe it or not i wanna make this show work. so if you wanna hang out and go over lines before the show just lemme know… i gotta lot of free time... bye_

He stared at the message for what felt like hours before he hit ENTER and sent it on its way to Sole’s inbox. He closed out of Facebook quickly when he saw that she was already online and resumed play on the movie, sinking into the couch attempting not to regret the words he just sent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news everyone! I finally have someone to read over my mistakes and help me make sure I'm not submitting garbage!!! Thanks Chrissy xoxo  
> Hope you enjoy! I have two chapters ready and edited so there should be one up tomorrow too!


	6. Chapter 6

Sole and Amata found themselves sitting in Sole’s living room, staring at a mess of papers scattered all around them. The two of them had made the mistake of forgetting to turn off the rapidly spinning fan before taking out a stack of unstapled papers. It was now the honor of the two best friends to sort through the pages and reassemble them. This was an arduous task, but one that was made easier by the work of two people. After they had stacked all the papers again, Sole ran into her father’s office and grabbed an industrial-sized rubber band.

 

“There!” She said, proudly holding her script all banded up, “No more runaway script.”

 

Amata dug through her bag to find a highlighter to mark all of Sandy’s lines and stage directions. After almost an hour of combing through their halves of the script, they had finally finished and were able to sit back and relax for a bit before Amata had to head back home.

 

Amata curled into a corner of the couch began to speak quietly. “You know you don’t have to stay here alone, right? You can come stay with me if you want.”

 

Sole looked up from her phone and stared at her friend. Amata continued.

 

“I know your dad is gonna be back before the show starts, but when I think about you here at night all by yourself, I get really upset.” Amata’s eyes began to glisten under the overhead light and Sole moved over to sit closer to her friend.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, Amata. Honestly, I’m okay here! I’m used to it at this point. It’s a nice peek what adult life is gonna be like!”

 

Amata nodded and wiped at her eyes. “I think I’m getting my period—you know me; I’m not usually this emotional.”

 

“Ah, so now you’re gonna perpetuate stereotypes about women, huh?” Sole teased.

 

Amata laughed. “It’s so hard being your friend sometimes.” A smile fell across Sole’s face, and she wrapped her arms around Amata in a tight embrace when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

 

“One sec—” She pulled the phone out and dropped it in shock at the name that appeared.

 

Amata noticed her friend’s change in expression and looked over her shoulder. “Butch just sent you a message on Facebook…”

 

“He did.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t know; I haven’t opened it yet!”

 

“Well, open it!”

 

Sole felt a rush of anxiety run through her body. There always seemed to be a certain feeling of panic that arrived with unwarranted messages. She read the message once to herself, then once out loud, eventually giving the phone to Amata as if she could help decipher it.

 

Sole couldn’t find the appropriate words to say but finally settled on, “You threatened him?”

 

Amata sighed and, with a shrug, passed the phone back to Sole. “It wasn’t a threat. I just told him that I really hoped that he wasn’t just here to fuck around. And that it would be in his best interest if he took this seriously.”

 

Sole giggled before sparing a glance back at her phone. “So… I guess he’s really not fucking with us.”

* * *

 

 

Sole was completely unprepared to deal with this situation.

 

Butch DeLoria had tormented her and her best friend for far too many years for her to simply move on and spend time with him without boiling in rage. She didn't enjoy hating him—Sole would have rather not hated anyone if she had the choice, but of course, no one could truly control their hatred, and she wasn't the type to pretend she could.

 

She had considered Butch a friend when they were younger—one of her best friends, even. When they first entered middle school, something happened. He was different. Angry. Mean.

 

One day, she invited him to eat lunch with her and Amata, excited that now they got to choose who they sat with. In response, he stuck his tongue out at her and repeated her question in a high-pitched, mocking voice. “Why would I want to sit with you and your nerd friends?"

 

She had cried that lunch. Amata wasn't much help, not really knowing how to handle the crying or the fact that their friend had decided to abandon them. That was years ago, and Sole could have honestly moved on from that moment if Butch hadn't continued to act like a jackass every day following that. She had tried to forgive and forget, but right when she was about to, he just had to open his mouth again.

 

It never got physical; Butch seemed like the type of guy who was all bark and no bite. Though Sole always had to laugh when she thought of the time she punched one of his goons—Wally Mack—in the face. They both got detention, but it was absolutely worth it.

 

Sole pulled out of her own thoughts and realized she had been laying on the couch staring at her phone, which she had tossed on the table. She had been trying to figure out what to say for what felt like hours—and she was correct in that assessment. Amata had left at 4 so she could get ready for dinner with her father. Sole reached a hand out and double tapped on her phone, illuminating the screen. It was 6:43.

 

She knew she was taking too long with this. He must have seen that she had read it. The longer she waited, the worse it would be.

 

_hey Butch! I'm not gonna say that I'm not surprised at this message but I'm really excited about this show too :D also call me Sole! the only time I hear my full name is when my dad really needs my attention lol :)_

 

She hit send, not wanting to bombard him with a whole block of text.

 

_I’m pretty free for the most part too! do you wanna maybe get lunch after school tomorrow? I know the cafeteria leaves a lot to be desired. let me know :)_

She hit send again before wincing at the amount of smiley faces she had used in two small messages. She clicked her screen off, and she settled back into her corner of the couch.

 

She wanted to call her father, but she knew that it was only late afternoon where he was and that she'd probably be calling in the middle of one of his meetings. Deciding to hold off for a few more hours, she grabbed her phone again, impulsively checking to see if Butch had seen her message. He hadn't.

 

Sighing, she opened Twitter— her favorite mindless activity app. She pulled down on her home page and relished in the satisfying little pop the app made. She stayed in that position for an hour, stretching out when she had to, but mostly staying tucked away in her corner.

 

Her phone rang at a quarter till eight, and her father’s contact photo lit up the screen. She scrambled to pick it up.

 

“Hello?"

 

“Hey, pumpkin." James sounded tired, but still thrilled to hear his daughter's voice. “How was school today?"

 

Sole shrugged even though he couldn't see her. “Oh, you know, school was school. How was work?"

 

James let out a deep sigh. “Work was work."

 

They both laughed at the same time, and it made Sole feel closer to her distant father.

 

“So something weird happened today. Butch DeLoria," she said his name with a certain gossipy intonation in her voice, “sent me a message."

 

James was silent on the other end.

 

“No, it's okay! It was a nice message. Sort of like a peace treaty for the show!"

 

James sighed and began to speak slowly, as if he were watching his words. “Sweetie, just- be careful around him. You know what I say about boys."

 

“That boys are rats? They're fleas on rats! Worse! They're amoebas on fleas on rats!"

 

“That's close enough, I suppose. But I think you're quoting Grease right now, which is apt.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Just be cautious. Boys only want one thing at that age."

 

Sole couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Butch and I hate each other. I don't want that, and I'd give my left arm to bet that he doesn't want it either."

 

“This conversation is starting to verge on a territory I don't want to enter, so I'm going to end it, okay? Save a ticket for me?"

 

“Always. Love you, Dad."

 

“Love you, Sole. Sweet dreams."

 

The beeping from the speaker signaled the end of the of the conversation, and Sole felt her heart sink a little bit. She was usually okay being left alone; her father left her alone often enough for her to have gotten over her fear of it long ago. But after a phone call that should make her feel better, she only realized how alone she really was.

 

She stood from the couch and shuffled into the kitchen to make herself dinner. As she grabbed some chicken from the fridge, she heard her phone ding from the other room. She put the chicken out in a pan and washed her hands before going to retrieve her phone. Before she could pick it up, it dinged again.

 

_yeah sure, that works do you wanna meet somewhere or i could drive us ther?_

_...*there_

Sole smiled and sent back:

 

_well if you're offering to drive and i don't have to walk i'll take it :p_

 


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, despite her best efforts, Sole was nervous. Butch had seemed genuine in his interest in the show and getting to know her better as Ms. Armstrong had told them to. But deep down, she was still worried this was all a ruse—a trap just for her naive and trusting self to fall right into.

 

As the bell rang to signify the end of the day, she stood near the main entrance and waited anxiously for Butch. Amata passed on her way out and gave her a quick hug. After the main crowd of students rushing out had passed, she finally saw Butch making his way towards the exit. He spotted her and gave her an awkward smile and a little wave. It seemed that neither of them was really prepared for this new treaty they had.

 

"Hey, Butch!" She smiled at him brightly, trying to ease them both into contentment.

 

"Hey, Sole. My truck is, uh- over this way." He readjusted his backpack on his shoulder and gripped at the strap tightly.

 

Sole nodded and followed him to a light blue pick-up truck parked near the back of the student parking lot. "I never realized that was your truck, Butch. It's nice. I like the color."

 

Butch grinned. "Not too bad huh? I found it at a Stanley's junkyard… two summers ago, I think. He said if I fixed it up all on my own I could take it. So I did. Took a long fucking time, but it eventually got done."

 

Butch seemed proud of his work, and Sole thought he should be. She'd probably place the truck from around the late 80's—and if it was gutted when Butch found it, that meant he probably built up the inside from scratch.

 

"You know, if you were able to do all that, you could probably get a nice paying job as a mechanic. Not that you have to be a mechanic if you don't want to! But it's an option. It's really cool that you did this and I'm rambling and I'm going to shut up now." Butch laughed, and Sole felt her face flush in embarrassment.

 

"I'm already on it. Stanley saw how well I fixed it up on my own and recommended me to car place Old Lady Gibson has on Main. I work there on the weekends. Gibson says it keeps me out of trouble." He flashed Sole a smile that could be read as him being up to no good.

 

"One could argue that all you're in is trouble."

 

Butch laughed once more and opened the driver's door sliding into his truck. "Maybe so."

 

Sole pulled open her door and jumped in, sticking her bag between her feet and fastening the seatbelt. Butch started the car, the engine growling to life.

 

“Hey, so you're into meat, right?"

 

She froze and looked over at him. "Excuse me?"

 

Butch began blushing and focused on pulling the car out of the parking lot. "That came out real bad... Lemme try again. You're not a vegetarian or anything, right? Like you eat meat?"

 

Sole let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding in, and with it came a shaky laugh. "Oh yeah, no. I love burgers too much to get rid of meat."

 

Butch nodded as he turned out of the school. "Alright. Hope you don't mind, but I picked a place that I thought was pretty fitting."

 

He was lucky he could come up with another reason to take her to the retro diner downtown other than the fact that he had snooped through her Facebook to figure out what she liked. She glanced at him in confusion before turning her eyes back towards the road. She wasn't sure what he meant by the place being fitting. Last week, Sole wouldn't have even considered trusting him as blindly as she was, but something about the way Butch was acting now didn't lead her to any worry. She leaned back in her seat and just enjoyed the ride.

 

The two didn't talk much in the car. Both of them were thinking that if they used all their conversation starters in the car, their lunch would be a silent and awkward one. After a 25-minute drive, Butch turned into a parking lot, and Sole's face erupted into a smile.

 

"Holy shit, DeLoria! You're right; this is amazingly fitting." She grabbed her bag and hopped out of the car, waiting for Butch to follow suit.

 

The two of them walked through the doors and found a table to sit at, following the instructions on the outside of the counter. Their waitress came out from behind the counter, wearing her hair in a loose bun on top of her head with blonde curls falling around her face. She was wearing a retro waitress skirt and button-up shirt complete with a white apron. She took their drink order—a Coke for each of them—and left them with the menu.

 

Sole stared at her for a few seconds after she had bustled away, then sighed as she turned back to her menu. Butch glanced between where the waitress had disappeared into the back and Sole.

 

"What? What are ya staring for?"

 

Sole looked up, and he could see her face getting red. "It's frustrating, you know. You ever see someone and not be sure if you wanna look like them or if you have a crush on them?"

 

Butch blinked at her. "Nah, not really." (This was a lie.)

 

Sole shrugged and went back to the menu, and Butch awkwardly went back to his.

 

"So is Amata your girlfriend, then?" It was an impulsive question and one that he regretted asking. But luckily, Sole wasn't mad—instead, she laughed.  
"Ah, I wish." And then she froze. "Okay, no, that's not what I meant. I don't like have a crush on her or anything—she's my best friend; that's crazy. I just—" She was stumbling over her words, and Butch actually felt bad for flustering her like that.

 

"Don't worry about it. Forget I asked." They were silent for a while, both slightly embarrassed.

 

When their waitress came back with their Cokes, they both surprisingly ordered the same thing: a classic burger, cooked well done, with all the toppings minus onions.

 

"Who knew we were so similar?" Sole joked.

 

Butch smiled but couldn't really think of anything else to add. Sole took up initiative again.

 

"So what's been going on with you in the past 6 years, Butch? We haven't been friends since 5th grade, so there's a lot to be filled in on. I guess we start there?"

 

Butch shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well I started a... club." Sole laughed.

 

"Listen! Paul's mom wouldn't let him join if we called it a gang, so it's a club. That's the story, and we're sticking with it."

 

Sole conceded with a nod. "That's fair. So how did the Tunnel Snakes start?"

 

Butch smiled as he recalled how they began. "We were at Chuck E Cheese for Paul's birthday." Sole remembered this party; it was back when they were all still kids and still friends. "Wally was really good at Skee-Ball for some reason and won enough tickets to trade in for few of those rubber snakes they have in the prize cabinet. While everyone was singing to Paul, Wally climbed through the sky tunnel thingies and started leaving those snakes around. Eventually, when everyone got back to playing, they saw those and freaked out. Wally just sat around and ate his cake."

 

Sole had to laugh and admit that that was a pretty funny and harmless prank.

 

"So,” Butch continued, “when we decided we needed a name for our group, Wally recommended the 'Tunnel Snakes' to pay homage to his first act of deviance. I came up with the design, and after we all found some leather jackets at various Goodwills, I uh- sewed on the patches.” He seemed embarrassed to admit that not only did he draw, but he could sew as well.

 

But Sole didn’t seem to care. “Butch DeLoria, multi-talented craftsman! I really didn’t imagine that. I gotta be honest I’ve had a weird mental image of you over the years and it doesn’t match up with what I’m seeing now.” She took a sip of her drink.

 

Butch smirked. “Oh, yeah? What kinda mental image?”

 

She kicked up under the table. “Don’t ruin it, Butch. I’m trying to be nice, here. Truce. Remember?” He nodded, still grinning like a goof.

 

They talked about school for a little bit, about how Sole was having trouble in English and how that was actually a subject Butch was doing pretty well in. How Mr. Broach seemed destined to fail everyone no matter what. How, despite being her best friend’s father, Mr. Almodovar was still an asshole.

 

Their waitress brought out steaming plates of fries and burgers. They both dug in, enjoying their meal and not really minding the silence.

 

Sole swallowed a bite of her burger and washed it down with her Coke before she began speaking again. “I just… Don’t take this as an insult because it’s not supposed to be one. But you at so big and tough on campus, you bully everyone and generally act like a giant douche anytime you see Amata and I, but we’re having a perfectly pleasant conversation right now. What’s the truth, Butch? Which one is an act?”

 

Butch knew this information, and he was pretty sure Wally and Paul knew this information, but to be called out by this person who was pretty much a stranger to him at this point cut deep. If she could tell, who else could? He reacted the only way he knew how to: by putting his shields back up.

 

“Don’t act like you know me, Mendoza. We’ve been sitting here for less than 30 minutes and you’re gonna start to psychoanalyze me? Just cause you’re daddy’s a doctor doesn’t mean—”

 

“Not that kind of doctor.”

 

Butch stopped and stared at her. “What?”

 

“He’s not that kind of doctor. He’s a surgeon, not a therapist or psychiatrist.”

 

“Whatever! Point is, don’t act like you know what’s going on with me, okay? I don’t want you peeking into my life like that. I stopped being your friend a long time ago, remember?”

 

Sole was silently seething in anger. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions from spilling out. "Trust me. I remember."

 

She reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet, throwing some bills onto the table.

 

“Since this failed truce was apparently my fault, lunch is on me. New deal: we don’t talk unless we have to. A professional context. I won’t try to be your friend. Have a nice night, Butch.” She stormed out of the door and began to walk home.

 

Butch felt as if he could do nothing but watch her walk out the door. Of course, he could have done something. He could have- no, should have, stood up and followed her out. Apologized for ruining lunch and told her that she was right, and that usually people don’t read him that deeply. Then, he should have offered her a ride home because it looked like it was about to rain. But he did none of those things. He only sat in the booth, drowning in regret, watching her figure turn the corner and walk away.

 

* * *

 

Sole was on the phone with Amata the moment she turned the corner away from the diner.

 

“Hey, ‘Mats?—Yeah no, lunch was a bummer; I left—Because he’s a stupid jerk; that’s why!—Would you mind?— Yeah, I’ll be in the park—Love you. Thanks.”

 

Sole silently trudged along the sidewalk, eventually turning into the park where all the kids liked to hang out after school. At least, they used to. It had been a while since Sole had visited, but she hadn’t thought that the park where she and her friends used to play would be empty on a school day.

 

She didn’t mind, though—a 19-year-old sulking alone in a park full of children would have been suspicious, and she didn’t really have the emotional capability to deal with the stares of wary parents right now. She made her way over to a set of swings and plopped herself down in one, gently rocking herself back and forth without removing her feet from the ground.

 

She was quiet and in thought, wondering what had gone wrong. Well, she could answer that: Butch DeLoria was a jackass who clearly didn’t appreciate a peace treaty that he himself made. But should she put the blame all on him?

 

She certainly wanted to. He had snapped; he had yelled; he had told her to mind her own business when all she wanted to do was reach out. To let him know that he could drop the act around her if he wanted. Had she gone about it the wrong way? Maybe bringing it up in the first real conversation after six years wasn’t the best idea. She felt a little bad, having pulled that question unexpectedly, but she didn’t feel bad about asking it. It had been a while, but in the first moments of conversation with him, she could see that he was still someone she could be friends with—if only he put in the effort for it.

 

But maybe he really didn't want to be friends. Maybe his lashing out wasn't a defense mechanism like she had assumed it was. He seemed pretty determined to keep her out of his life, and maybe that wasn't an act. And if that were the case, then there was really no reason for all the sulking and ruminating on it.

 

Sole tried as hard as she could to get Butch out of her mind, trying to focus on the repetitive movement of kicking her legs back and forth. But no matter how many times she told herself to move on and forget about him, he kept popping into her head. She remembered the look on his face right after she had spoken, the silence that followed. The reaction wasn't immediate, and she thought that that was a pretty good sign of him having to cover up his true emotions.

 

Sole explained all of this to Amata when she arrived. She pulled up to the curb next to the park just in time for a light drizzle of rain to begin falling around them. Amata listened to her friend’s rambles patiently. Sole thought she was presenting her thoughts in a clear and concise manner—but really, she was jumping around from topic to topic in a frenzy, as if she herself were trying to make sense out it. She started with how nice their talk was before the incident, then moved on to how much she hated him, the back to her hypothesis that he really was a good guy and there was something holding him back. When she finally stopped, she turned to her friend to gain whatever insight Amata had.

 

Amata merely shrugged her shoulders. "Listen, who cares if it's an act?" Sole began to speak, but Amata removed a hand from the steering wheel and held her index finger in the air.

 

"I'm not done. Who cares whether he's acting or not, Sole? Look, if it's an act, then it's one he's worked on perfecting for years. That's gonna be hard to break. If it's not an act and he's just a jackass, then there's no reason to try and reach out. Either way, it's not your problem to deal with. What's that thing you always say to me?"

 

Sole stared at her friend with a blank expression on her face. "I say many things to you about many topics; you're going to have to be more specific."

 

Amata rolled her eyes. "It's like having a motivational speaker as your best friend all the time." She paused for a moment, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, and willed the quote to come back to her. "Ah! Don't set yourself on fire to keep others warm!"

 

Sole blinked. "Not sure how that applies here, 'Mats. What's your thesis?"

 

"Okay, like… Remember how when I was dating that college guy over the summer? I think you hated him." Sole nodded. She remembered, and she did hate him.

 

"Well, he had a drinking problem, right? He would go out and party with his friends every night. And I kept trying to help him, trying to get him to do other things with me that wouldn't involve drinking, or trying to talk some sense into him when he wanted to get shitfaced.

 

“It was running me ragged, Sole. I was a mess, and it was taking its toll on me. You saw that. And you took me aside one day, and you said, 'Amata. It is NOT your job to take care of this boy. You have been dating him for two months, and you are not his therapist. It is not your job to fix the person you're with.’" Sole remembered this conversation—it was a rough one.

 

"I wasn't happy with you,” Amata went on. “I was mad, actually. But you were right, Sole. It wasn’t my job to fix my boyfriend, and it's not your job to fix Butch. You're not his girlfriend. You're not his mom. You're not even really his friend. I can already see the little gears moving around in your head for your next step, but it's not worth it, okay? Don't run yourself ragged to help this guy who has been nothing but mean to you since sixth grade."

 

Sole was silent. Her own advice was coming back to haunt her. She knew it wasn't her responsibility, but she really wanted to help. Amata turned down Sole's block and into her driveway, throwing her car into park and turning in her chair to finally look into her friend's eyes.

 

"If you want to help him, help him memorize his lines so this show doesn't burn and fail, okay?"

 

Sole nodded, pulling her friend into the closest thing to a hug you can get in a car. "Thanks, Amata. I really appreciate this, you know?"

 

Amata laughed and hugged her friend back. "Don't get sappy with me, Mendoza. Now, go on and get inside, okay? You've had a weird day and you gotta relax a little."

 

Sole exited the car and waved goodbye as she unlocked the door and entered, smiling when she noticed how Amata only left after she had safely entered her home.

 

Sole threw her bag down on the ground near the front door, flopped down onto the couch, and turned on the TV. She flicked through the channels, sighing when she couldn't find anything to watch. She pulled up Netflix and skimmed through the list of new releases and recently added. Nothing.

 

She was about to give up hope on entertainment as she flipped through bad movie after movie. Eventually, she settled on a nature documentary as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The TV wasn’t as much entertainment as it was background noise for her social media expedition.

 

Sole checked the usual suspects. She picked some fights on Facebook and ended some on Twitter before shutting her phone off and curling up on her side, staring at the TV screen without watching it. Against her better judgement, knowing that it was only 3 in the afternoon, she fell asleep on the couch—not feeling the vibrations coming from her phone as she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops  
> i'm back  
> SORRY


	8. Chapter 8

James was worried.

 

Logically he knew that he had no reason to be worried but as a father he could do nothing else. Sitting in his hotel room he tried her phone again.

 

Nothing.

 

James trusted Sole. He was proud to say that his daughter was good and smart and wise beyond her years. Who he didn't trust was Butch DeLoira.

 

He couldn't count the number of times in high school alone that his daughter had come home in a less than pleasant mood only for him to find out that it was that no good greased up punk that was causing her trouble. He had tried to get her to go to the dean about it but apparently Alphonse was already quite aware of the situation—using the Tunnel Snakes to control some of the more unsavory students. Making deals with punks seemed to have backfired because his daughter was now being harassed as well.

 

He trusted Butch alone with his daughter about as far as he could throw the kid; with his bad back it wasn't that far.

 

He knew that they were going to lunch and it was now almost four and his daughter wasn't picking up. James paced up and down and around his hotel room for what felt like an hour before he tried calling for a fifth time. A bit much, he knew. But as her father he couldn’t help it.

 

The ringing stopped shortly after it began and a sleepy sounding voice answered on the other end. "H-Hello?"

 

James breathed a sigh of relief "Hello pumpkin. What have you been doing? This is my fifth call."

 

He could hear rustling on Sole's end and then a yawn. "I fell asleep on the couch out of boredom."

 

"That will mess up your sleep cycle Sole."

 

He heard her blow a raspberry into the phone. "Yeah I know. But as someone who has intense medical training, you should also be aware of the great importance that naps have on the minds of young and developing adults."

 

James laughed at his daughter's stubbornness that she no doubt got from her mother. "Someone has been doing their research on naps haven't they?"

 

"Only a few journals. What are you doing calling so early anyways?"

 

James didn't want to say that he was worried about her lunch with Butch even though that's exactly what he was worried about and why he called. "I knew you had your peace treaty lunch today and I wanted to hear how it went." Sole was silent and James began to worry yet again. "Sole did something happen? If that boy tried-"

 

"Dad! No! Jeez nothing like that. It just, went worse than I thought it was going to be. Dad... do you think I'm too abrasive?"

 

James chuckled audibly at that. "The day that my daughter is abrasive is the day that pigs fly. Why do you ask?"

 

A sigh came across the call. "I think lunch failed partially because I had no impulse control and asked questions that were none of my business." James felt for his daughter. She had always been an inquisitive child and she had never grown out of it; not that he had expected her to. "Did you bring up his mother or his father?"

 

"Neither! That's a dinner conversation not lunch! I asked him what was real, him acting like a jackass or the him that I was having a nice conversation with."

 

"Did he get defensive?"

 

"He got defensive."

 

James sat down on the edge of the bed trying to think of the right advice to give his daughter. "I can tell that this is bothering you. I'm not saying that you should dedicate a lot of time to this guy because you know how I feel about him, but it might be best to warm up to conversations of a personal nature okay? Don't jump into it head first. But know that if he yells at you again when I get back, I'll take care of it."

 

"Dad always to the rescue. But I promise I can handle it okay? No need to worry about me."

 

"You know that's my job."

 

Their conversation resumed its natural course after that, he asked her about school, she asked him about work. After Sole had hung up she wondered if she should be the one to reach out and apologize to Butch. It would be easy to put all the blame on him, just as easy as it would be for him to put the full blame on her. So, she sent a message from somewhere in the middle.

 

_Hey so obviously we started out on the wrong foot today. That didn't go the way I wanted it to go and I'm pretty sure it didn't go the way you wanted it to either. I'm sorry for pushing it's not really any of my business I was just trying to get to know you better honestly. I think we both overreacted and that we should try again. Hope the rest of your burger was good :)_

 

She sent it and stared at her phone waiting for a reply. Finally, the green light next to his name appeared, the bubble signifying that he was typing rose from the bottom of the screen and then was gone.

 

No reply came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends  
> college kicked my ass this semester and i've barely escaped  
> this is me taking a break from poetry analysis  
> sorry bout it ya'll  
> winter break will be good and productive for this fic i promise  
> <3


	9. Chapter 9

The weeks leading up to the official start of rehearsals passed by in a weird haze for Sole. She would often turn a corner and come face to face with Butch. When they met, he was no longer mocking or mean—he wasn’t anything but silent. Passing by him resulted in a greeting of simply jerking his chin upwards in the universal movement of 'hey what's up.'

 

 

Amata had told Sole not to worry about Butch—being silent was inherently better than him being antagonistic. Sole desperately wanted to move on, and she knew it should’ve been easy. Yet the lack of emotion—positive or negative—stressed her out even more. To her being ignored was infinitely more frustrating than being made fun of. She would much rather have people be rude to her face because then at least she knew where she stood with them. Now she felt like she was in limbo with Butch.

 

 

She was ready to talk about what had happened at lunch, but it didn't seem like he was quite there yet. Whenever she tried to stop him, he made some excuse about having to go to class, which was not an excuse she had ever heard Butch use before. In fact, he was usually making something up to get out of going to class. Sole wasn't sure why she was so invested in getting him to talk to her. She was fine being his enemy for the six years leading up to senior year. So, what changed? Maybe it was because she had seen a part of him at lunch that day that didn't get to see the light of day often. Of course, his Tunnel Snake friends probably saw it more often than the rest of the world, but judging by how they acted in public, she would guess that it was probably still a rare sight.

 

 

Genuine Butch was different than Tunnel Snake Butch in more ways than just personality. Tunnel Snake Butch always seemed tense, he held his shoulders rigid, as if he were waiting for something to go wrong. Genuine Butch, the Butch she saw at lunch, was relaxed. He had lounged in the booth seemingly without a care in the world. She wanted to see more of that.

 

 

Deep down though, Sole was concerned that this newfound interest in him was the buried remnants of the crush she had on him in elementary school. This vexed and haunted her. She fought to keep that thought out of her head. There was no way that it was back. She couldn’t allow it to come creeping back to surface after all these years—and after all he had done.

 

 

When they were younger, Amata once told Sole how her dad had said that boys are mean to girls because they like them, and that maybe Butch had a crush on both of them. Amata had thought that was the best way to explain the sudden personality shift in their friend. James had immediately shot this idea down, explaining in the best way he could to his small middle schooler that she shouldn't accept that as an answer, and that boys shouldn't get away with being mean just because some adults think that it's normal behavior.

 

Sole remembered this conversation with her father and pushed her own hypothesis back far into her brain, electing to ignore it. She would much rather explore the option of the two of them becoming friends again. A part of her had always missed Butch and often wondered if the three of them would have been an inseparable trio had things not turned out the way they did.

 

* * *

 

Butch had often thought the same thing. He would see videos of Sole and Amata on Facebook and other social media accounts and would occasionally feel a pang of regret buried somewhere deep in his body. He loved his friends—he wasn't afraid to admit this to himself. Wally was a jackass, but was a loyal jackass that Butch couldn’t imagine his life without. He stood by Butch's side through thick and thin. Paul was gentler, and Butch felt bad about dragging him down—but then he would say something insightful and kind and Butch knew he hadn't ruined the kid. Both had been there for him through most of the rough points in his adolescence and he couldn't ever thank them enough for that. Of course, those thanks would never be said out loud, not if he had a choice in the matter.

 

He always wondered if Sole and Amata would've stuck around if he hadn't pushed them away. He knew that the answer was yes; of course they would have. Sole stayed with Amata through her parents’ divorce, and Amata often visited the cemetery with Sole to visit her mother's grave so she wouldn't have to go through it alone. He knew that if he had said, "Hey guys things are bad now, and I need you more than ever" that they would have been there to back him up. But he was young and small and didn't have the emotional capacity to take that step. He could say it now, but apologizing would go against most of the reputation that he's been building since he established the Tunnel Snakes.

 

Paul had asked him why breaking down his stereotypical bad boy emotionless reputation would be such a bad thing. He didn't have an answer for him. Only silence.

 

After he had snapped at Sole and she had left, Butch sat at the diner picking at his fries, not having an appetite anymore. He left after giving the waitress his own money, resolving to give Sole back the money she had left and began driving. He had nowhere specific to go but knew he had to drive. He found himself zoning out behind the wheel, thinking about why he had to be so goddamn defensive whenever someone tried to read him. Paul and Wally had both gotten the same response out of him before they got the hint. The truth was that he would have loved to have someone to talk about all of it with. Maybe Sole could've helped him get out the ditch he had spent years digging for himself. But of course, he had to act like a dick and dig himself even deeper. He had seen Sole's message, typed out his own apology and conceded that he had definitely overreacted. Before he could hit send, he panicked and erased it all, shutting his phone off and taking a few shots of his mom’s whiskey before flopping onto his bed and staring at the ceiling for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay shorter time span between updates this month!!! 
> 
> chrissy is an angel for looking over this chapter for me bless her soul


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